Selected Short Subjects
by bkppr1066
Summary: Part 5 up! I now have a Tumblr account, although I'm not very good with it yet. When I figure it out, I'll post these shorts there, as they occur to me, rather than saving them up. Let me know if you have any ideas!
1. Chapter 1

_SELECTED SHORT SUBJECTS_

A collection of shorter bits about Jane and Maura at various stages. I like to write these shorter pieces, and I'll post these aggregates from time to time, until somebody tells me to stop. I'll try and discipline myself that each set will be about 2000 words. Enjoy and review, please!

_Academics_

Jane's phone rang, and Maura's picture filled the screen. "Hey, Maur."

"Hello, Jane. I'm sorry, but I really need a favor."

"Sure. Name it." Jane was always more than glad to do Maura any favor she was asked. Jane worried about that.

"I need a ride. There's something wrong with my car…it won't start. I have to get to the BCU campus in twenty minutes. Would you? Please?"

The appealing tone of that last word did things to Jane's insides, and her outsides, too; she started to break out into a sweat in the middle of February. And forgot about any impulse to tease Maura about that extravagant car.

"Alright. Meet me in the lobby. Oh, and bring your BCU hangtag. Just in case."

As they pulled past McCormick Hall, Maura said "You can just drop me off. I'll take a cab back."

"Nah. The weather's shitty. I'll park and wait for you."

"Not in your car. At least come in. There's a coffee shop on the first floor, although I don't recommend eating or drinking anything there."

"Nah...I'll just sit up in the back while you give your lecture. It's only an hour."

Maura looked at Jane as if her friend had been replaced by an alien. "'Biochemical Events Immediately Concomitant to Blunt-Force Trauma'? You'll be bored to death."

"I don't mind."

"Why not?"

Jane put the car in park and turned off the engine. "Because _you're_ giving the lecture."

_Attention_

_Maura kissed me._

She was leaving my apartment last night, after one of our usual (I was going to say normal, but no moment with Maura is ever 'normal') evenings of TV and talk. I walked her to the door, and, before she turned to go, she lifted her face and kissed me. Just...kissed me. Then she said goodnight, and left.

It was very nice. Her lips are silky, firm...they taste sweet, a little like the wine she was drinking, and...something else.

_Shit_. I have the attention span of a five-year-old the day after Halloween. I'm trying to review incident reports, citation records, cold cases, trying to track this suspect through the system. And all I can think about is Maura's lips on mine. I'm no damn good for anything else.

Frost just whacked me on the back of the head for zoning out while he was showing me...something...on my computer.

I'm an idiot.

And here's the weirdest part of this. I didn't try to stop her.

I kissed her back.

_What the hell do I do now?_

_Scheming_

I kissed Jane tonight.

I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew I was going to do it the moment I walked into her apartment tonight. I'd been thinking about it for weeks.

But I was a coward. I waited until the last minute, until I had an escape already in place, until I could do the deed and run away. Despicable.

But...I liked it. It was sweet and warm and sexy. I want to kiss her again.

I know she liked it. She didn't pull away, she took part, she reciprocated.

I've made a mess of things, now.

_I have no idea what to do next._

_Clueless_

Maura stood, smiled at Jane. "I have to go. See you at lunch?"

Jane stayed seated, finishing her coffee. "Sure. I'd like that."

Maura gave Jane a lingering look. "'Bye."

Jane looked back through hooded eyes. "'Bye."

Jane watched Maura walk out in her clingy dress and short jacket, her hips swaying sweetly, innocently. Jane also noticed that Maura attracted the attention of the two men in suits at the next table. The younger man, facing in Maura's direction, stared unabashedly. "She sure is hot, don't y'think?"

His older, crew-cut companion craned his neck to look behind him, just in time to see Maura turn the corner and vanish from sight. "Yeah, she is a looker. She's supposed to be a genius, but she's really clueless."

Jane felt the anger-driven bile rise in her throat. She walked by the men's table on her way out, paused. "She's not as clueless as you think, " she rasped, her displeasure clear in her tone. "She's smart enough to know not to date someone like you."

Before either man could reply, she turned away and walked out, her vigorous, heavy steps thumping on the floor.

As she reached the elevator she allowed herself a little mental high-five. She'd done her good deed for the day.

_Mano a mano_

The coffee table's cluttered with a half-empty pizza box, three beer bottles, and an empty wine glass. Oh, and my feet. _Iron Man 2_ is on the screen; it's our regular movie night.

Maura's leaning on my shoulder. I can't see her face, so I don't know if she's fallen asleep or not. One arm's wrapped around mine; her other hand's in my lap.

I take her hand in mine, gently, so as not to wake her. I'm watching the movie, sort of, and my thumb explores the back of her fingers and knuckles. I don't actually watch the movie. I don't look at Maura or our joined hands, either. I'm not really sure where I am. But I swear to God I could recognize Maura's left hand if I held it blindfolded.

How can I not tell her I love her? How can I know if she loves me?

The she squeezes my fingers. Lightly, gently. Once, twice. She murmurs contentedly into my shoulder.

Maybe I do know.

_Forecast_

Halfway through unfastening the buttons of Maura's blouse, in the middle of tasting the sweetness of Maura's tongue in her mouth, Jane paused and drew back. "Are you really ready for this?"

Maura caught her breath. "If by _this_ you mean am I ready to have sex with you, I am, absolutely."

More kisses, more buttons, more caresses. As Maura placed kiss after kiss on Jane's face and neck, she panted, "But…if you mean…something…beyond just sex…I'm…ready…for…that…too." She found Jane's mouth, drew her lips into her own. She faced Jane squarely, looking into her rich brown eyes. "And…I should warn you that _this_ could go _there_, very quickly."

Jane kissed Maura's forehead gently. "I'll take that chance."

_Sleep_

Maura woke as the winter dawn was just breaking. It was dark in the room; but Maura's eyes, hours adapted to the dark, traced the outlines of Jane as she slept under the comforter next to her, to her left. It was surprising, and sweet, how they had adapted so well to sleeping in the same bed; Jane always on Maura's left side, Maura always on Jane's right. Jane slept on her back, her head to one side; although often they would spoon together, Maura wrapped up in Jane's body, behind her and tucking Maura into the pocket of her breasts and stomach. Jane's dark hair splayed out on the pillow, like those ancient sculptures of the solar disk with its twisted rays.

She had always been an early riser. Most days in the winter she woke before it was light, padding about the house, doing chores, feeding Bass, preparing for work. Today, Saturday, she was content to stay in bed, propped up against the headboard, watching this wonderful creature in repose beside her.

They had been sleeping together, making love, exploring each other, for a week. For Maura, who had been happiest with facts, logic, order, pattern, it was the most disorderly, illogical period of her life, and she was finding nothing but joy in it. She wondered what her life would have been like had she met Jane Rizzoli when she was sixteen, rather than in her thirties. How incredibly different it would have turned out.

As the room brightened she wanted Jane to wake. She wanted to feed Jane a nice breakfast, share the paper, chat around the table. Things that she imagined normal people did. She supposed, though, upon further reflection, that sleeping inordinately late might be something normal people did, as well.

Jane stirred. Maura helped the process along by gently stroking Jane's bare upper arm, and playing provocatively with her hair. Jane opened one eye, then another, sat up, and wordlessly reached for a kiss. Maura obliged, and Jane came fully awake. Maura was beginning to believe that this morning kiss was as necessary to jump-start her lover as that first cup of coffee, the aroma of which began to waft into the bedroom as the automatic timer on the coffee machine kicked in.

Jane smacked her lips, yawned, stretched, and smiled at Maura. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Yeah I did." Jane considered for a minute, sitting up in bed. "Y'know, I've slept well every night this week."

"It must be the great sex. Post-coital endorphins…"

"Well, sure…you wear me out, I'll grant you that. But we didn't have sex last night. We were too tired, although I never thought I'd hear myself say that. I never sleep through the night when I'm by myself. Or even when I was sleeping with someone else...oh hey…sorry."

Her partner's brief scowl was quickly replaced by an affectionate smile.

"Nightmares?" Maura remembered several nights when Jane had called in the middle of the night, jarred awake with night terrors, bathed in sweat, voice weak and shaken. Nights when Maura had left her own bed to share Jane's, purely to comfort the detective and soothe her fears.

"Yeah. But not here. Not with you."

"Ever?"

"Ever. You must be good for me."

Maura felt a warm glow in her belly, a satisfying sense of accomplishment and attraction. The intensity of the sensation scared her, and she chose to deflect. "I'm glad to hear it. By whatever means, you need your rest. If only so you have enough energy to keep me happy. I am rather voracious."

"I've noticed. And speaking of which, maybe we can make up for last night's missed opportunities?" Jane grinned wolfishly and stroked Maura's back, pulled her lips within millimeters of her own.

Maura closed the distance with a kiss, and Jane's response lit her on fire.

So much for the nice breakfast.

They could always go out for brunch.

_Contact_

At four in the morning Jane was getting dressed in the dark, trying not to wake Maura. She'd come home at two, to grab two hours of sleep and some clean clothes. They'd been trying to track down this killer for five days now—the guy who came into all-night convenience stores, shot the clerk working alone, rifled the register, grabbed a couple bottles of booze, and disappeared. Camera footage wasn't helpful, the guy was masked and hooded; ballistics hadn't turned up the gun in any records yet, and Maura's autopsies had only shown one or two fatal bullet wounds. No connection between the victims. Homicide had been getting by on a few hours sleep here and there, ragging on every CI they could squeeze, chasing down leads that turned out to be false.

Despite Jane's efforts to be silent, Maura stirred, sat up in bed. "When did you come home?"

Jane was pulling on her shoes. "A couple of hours ago."

"You just slipped into bed?"

"I know how hard you've been working on this case. I didn't want to wake you."

"You've hardly touched me in four days."

"Maura, I don't..."

"When you come home again, please do something for me?"

"What?" Jane clipped on her gun, sat next to Maura on the bed, took her hands.

"Wake me. Please."

Jane felt like five kinds of shit. "Okay." She kissed Maura, lingered for two minutes with her arms around her, and left for work.


	2. Chapter 2

Seected Short Subjects

Part 2

_Cheese_

"I'm so glad I found you."

Jane held her closer. "Well, I'm glad you did. Or I found you. Whatever." Jane was almost asleep.

"No, you don't understand. I didn't want to be last." Maura's breath was light and warm against Jane's back.

"Last?"

"The last woman I know to have...you know. A partner. A spouse. For the longest time I was certain 'd be alone all my life."

Jane felt Maura's lips softly brush her shoulder. "Yeah. I get you. Nobody wants to be the cheese."

"Cheese? Why would I be the cheese? You can't mean that literally."

Jane's eyes flew open. She was fully awake, now. "You never played 'Farmer in the Dell'?"

"No...I don't remember that...what is it?"

"It's a game, Maura. A children's game. All the kids stand in a circle, see, and they...oh, the important part is at the end of the game there's one kid left all by themselves after all the other kids have been picked. There's a song that goes with it, and it ends 'the cheese stands alone.'"

"That sounds very prejudicial."

"That's not the point..."

"What is the point, then?"

"Oh for heaven's...just to have fun."

"Well, it can't be that much fun for the poor kid who has to be the cheese."

"Did you play games when you were a kid?"

"No...not really."

"What did you do for fun?"

"I made a battery out of a lemon when I was four."

"That explains a _lot_. Go to sleep, Maura."

_Possession_

Jane drew a cup of coffee, noted the burnt odor, sighed, and let the sugar flow while she looked around the café for Maura. After a puzzled moment of not finding her, she spotted the doctor at a corner table, her back to Jane. She'd know that honey-colored hair anywhere.

As she approached the table she paused. Maura was deep in conversation with another woman, a stunning redhead about Maura's age. As Jane watched, Maura and the stranger exchanged smiles, laughed, and chatted. At one point the woman laid her hand on Maura's forearm. They exchanged what looked like business cards.

Jane's eyes narrowed to slits.

She changed her position, so that Maura could see her. She caught Maura's eye, and Maura gaily waved Jane over to the table. She flashed her private smile, that one that Jane knew was only for her, and Jane's blood pressure came down a few points.

Maura's companion was of medium size, shapely, sapphire-blue eyes looking out from a perfectly symmetrical, oval face. Her hair was a rich, dark red, thick, shiny, long and straight down her back.

She was gorgeous.

Jane would have arrested her for that alone, if she could find a way to call it criminal.

Maura took Jane's hand, squeezed it, then pointed to her companion. "Detective Rizzoli, I'd like you to meet Dr. Sandra Pickthorne. Sandra, Jane is my very best friend, and a homicide detective with the Boston Police. Dr. Pickthorne is a forensic pathologist, and she's an AME in Connecticut. She's here for a professional consultation."

Jane extended her hand unenthusiastically, and gave Dr. Pickthorne (_what a name!_) her "I really'd rather be anywhere else" smile. Maura said "Please, join us!" Just as Jane was trying to remember if she had to get to a root canal appointment, or something – anything - the redhead said "I really have to go. I need to meet with the State Police Chief at...oh...nine! Maura, this was lovely! Lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure Sandra. Come to my office. The security officer at the front desk will pass you in."

Jane took the empty seat as the interloper left. If Jane could shoot lasers from her eyes, Maura would have vanished in a flash of flame. "What was that all about?"

Maura picked at her breakfast roll. "Connecticut is upgrading their qualifications standards for the coroner's office staff. She's here to find out what we do. She's very nice."

Jane scowled into her coffee. "Yeah. Nice."

"What's the matter? Did you have a bad morning?"

Jane decided that a spat in the middle of the café wasn't in anybody's best interests, so she just grunted agreement, and headed up to Homicide, leaving a concerned and mystified lover in her wake.

Jane's phone rattled on her desk.

_Lunch? I got you a meatball sandwich from Pasquale's._

No use letting the best sandwich in Boston go to waste.

_Sure. Be down in a minute._

Maura had the food set out, and as Jane sat down – with a moment of awe and worship for another Pasquale's work of art – Maura daintily cut her salad-on-a-roll into small pieces. After they'd both been eating for a while, she looked at her lover and challenged, "All right. What got into you this morning?"

"Like you said. Bad morning."

"_Bullshit."_

Jane froze in mid-chew, stared at Maura with her mouth full and eyes wide. She mumbled something around a mouthful of meatballs.

"Swallow, Jane."

She did. "You never say that."

"It's the only way I can describe your...attitude! For a moment up there, I was worried! You were armed, and seriously pissed off!" She took a long, calming breath. "And I just want to know why. What'd I do?"

"Do I have to explain? Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"There you were, with the second most gorgeous woman on the planet, and you were all over her! And she was all over you!"

"I was _not_ all over her! We were just getting along. Swapping stories. We _do_ do the same work, after all."

"Maura, she was flirting with you...and you were returning the favor! You..."

"_I was not_ flirting!"

Ohh...you are going to get the _worst_ case of hives...Maura, you flirt with anything that moves! And I saw..."

"You saw me being friendly and cordial with another wom...oh, my god, Jane!"

"What? What?"

Jane...you're _jealous. _ You're positively emerald green with it."

"I am not...how dare..." then Jane just stopped, with her pointed finger in mid-air, a look of supreme indignation frozen on her face; and as Maura watched, that look faded to a downcast, guilty, hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression. But Jane wasn't giving up without at least token resistance.

"Was not. Wasn't jealous. That wasn't it."

"Well then, what was it?"

"I was...wh...Jealousy...I don't...well..I just didn't like seeing you..."

Maura took Jane's hand. "You're floundering. You know I'm right."

"Well, yeah. Maybe. I just...I hated seeing you giving so much attention to her. And she's so...damn."

"She's good looking. Yes. I noticed. But I _love_ you. Just you. Don't you know that yet?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. I just...it just flared up. I was so..."

"What?"

After a long pause, Jane whispered, "scared."

"Scared of her?"

"Of...losing you. Of...I don't know. Being unfavorably compared."

"That's so imm...impossible. Yes. Impossible. No one compares with you. Not for me."

"I know that. I do. I've never felt that before, though. I had this image, of going up there and grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and saying 'she's _mine_ and don't you come near her again!', and tossing her out on her perfect ass. But only for a second. I figured you wouldn't be happy with that."

"No, that's true. But you do have one thing right in there. I _am_ yours."

"I guess I don't really know how to manage that. I've never felt that way about anyone before. I've never loved anyone enough to really be upset if they paid attention to...someone else. I guess I always thought it'd happen eventually, anyway."

"So I am the only person you've ever felt jealously possessive about?"

"Yeah. I should apologize."

"No. you don't have to. I feel flattered, actually."

"Flattered?"

"I adore you. And to know that you want to possess me, to be the only person that has my...attention...that fills me up. I feel such pleasure at knowing that. You know, I feel that way about you, too? And I get jealous, too."

"I've never seen it."

"I don't show it. You know I don't trust emotions. And the silliest things can set me off."

"Like what?

"Well, just as an example, you know you dodged a bullet back there."

"Where?"

When you referred to Sandra as the '_second_ most gorgeous woman on the planet'."

"Oh? Oh...oh! Yeah. I know who the first is."

"I'm glad you think so."

Maura kissed her, and they both laughed.

_Arbor Day_

When Maura woke and poured herself some coffee, she saw Jane in the back yard.

Taking pictures.

_Why would Jane be taking pictures of my backyard?_

Then she corrected herself.

Our_ backyard_.

Maybe she likes the gardening I did. The landscaping _is_ attractive.

_Oh well. It_ is_ Jane. Who knows?_

Days passed, weeks passed, spring matured and hovered on the edge of summer, until on a warm, sunny Saturday Maura woke to a blue-jeaned Jane, coffee and a pastry, and a full picnic basket which Jane whisked into the car along with a bemused Maura, who could only ask "Where are we going?"

"On a picnic." Jane was smiling despite the laconic answer.

Maura smiled weakly, wondering if she was truly competent to diagnose stress-related delusions; Jane was not exactly a picnic person. Or a morning person, for that matter.

But Maura was willing to see where this was going.

They returned in the early evening, sand in their shoes and smelling of the salt air, the picnic consumed at a roadside table on Cape Cod. The view of the ocean, the murmur of waves, and Jane's body beside her, touching her, had calmed Maura's fears, and given her a pleasurable outing. Jane kept looking at her watch, though, and it made Maura wonder when the other shoe would drop.

Jane was practically bursting with anticipation as they entered the house.

_Anticipation of...what?_

Jane led her through the house, out the back door, and into the yard. Across the small brick patio that fronted the guest house, and back to the garden. Back to the empty corner that Maura had struggled with and given up on.

And there was a tree. Where there had been no tree this morning.

A small tree, true. A sapling. But a tree, nonetheless. And as Maura studied it and imagined it's full growth in her mind's eye, she saw how it would fill that corner gracefully, without shading the other plantings she had made.

And there was an envelope. Hanging from a low branch, from a ribbon.

Jane struck up a pose, spine erect, chin up, as she drew a slip of paper from her pocket. She read, as a recitation:

"This an American hornbeam or blue beech (_Carpinus caroliniana_). Also called musclewood for its smooth, sinewy gray limbs, this small native is often found in moist, rich soils in the wild. It can also handle heavy clay soil and tough urban conditions, as well as shade, drier soils and occasional flooding. Fall color is yellow to reddish. It grows to a mature size of 20 to 30 feet."

She looked up at Maura, apprehension on her face. "Happy anniversary. I love you."

Maura's first reaction was puzzlement. "Anniversary? What...?"

"Of out first date. When I took you to that arty movie you wanted to see. It was a year ago."

"That was...oh, yes. Our first serious kiss. You bought me a tree?"

"Yeah. Frankie and Tommy and Frost planted it. Tommy worked for a tree service for about two weeks. I warned them not to disturb anything out here. Here." Jane retrieved the envelope from the tree.

In it was a card. Before Maura opened it she paused. "This is what that drive to the cape was about? To get me out of the house?"

"Yeah. The said they needed most of a day."

"It's lovely. Thank you." Maura gave Jane a kiss, a light peck, while she worked the envelope open.

Inside the envelope was a plain white card, with "Happy Anniversary" in raised lettering. Inside, in Jane's handwriting, Maura read,

"_To Maura. The most challenging tree I've ever had to climb._

_But the view from up here is breathtaking._

_Love you forever,_

_Jane."_

Maura never understood how it was so easy for Jane Rizzoli to make her cry.

_Satori_

Jane was cheating.

Maura wouldn't see her do it. As long as Jane kept quiet, Maura would never know.

Maura was in a beatific state, completely unaware of what Jane was doing. All Jane wanted was for Maura to stay there and not nag her.

If Maura knew; if Maura found out, things would get unpleasant.

But Jane couldn't resist.

Maura's neck was so graceful, her breasts rising and falling in such a gentle, arousing rhythm, her face so beautifully peaceful, that Jane just couldn't resist reaching out to touch her.

This meditation crap was for the birds, anyway.

She'd been sitting here, first with her legs knotted up in lotus and then, up on her knees, while Maura just blissed out, her eyes closed, her mind turned (so she said) inward.

Jane never got it. For her, inner peace was a cold beer, the Sox in the playoffs, and Maura snuggled tightly against her on the couch.

Or in bed. Naked. Whatever.

So Jane reached out, with one long finger, and gently stroked the side of Maura's neck.

Maura didn't flinch, didn't open her eyes, didn't change the rhythm of her breathing. The only sign that she was aware of Jane's touch was the light pink flush that spread up her face.

She said, calmly, but clearly, "If my meditation routine is uninterrupted, my energy will be much higher, and the subsequent sex will be that much more enthusiastic."

Jane retracted her hand.

"Give me fifteen minutes more, Jane."

"Fifteen minutes? Okay."

The corners of Maura's mouth turned up slightly.

"Well, maybe ten."


	3. Chapter 3

**Selected Short Subjects, part 3**

**A/N: More little bits and pieces. Most of these assume Jane & Maura are in an established relationship. I like writing these, and I hope you like reading them. I'd like to try something: I've never written to prompts (except once). If you like these "shorts", send me a PM with some kind of prompt, and I'll try to write a short for it. And, as always, Read and Review, please!**

**Special Note: When I posted my last story, "Storm of the Century", I most negligently failed to thank Tracy for her valuable help and comments on the story pre-posting. Sorry! You did an awesome job! **

**(And I'm durned if I can figure out the editing system for posted stories. If anybody can help, please let me know! Thanks!)**

**######**

**Running with scissors**

The swing of the morgue doors, and the rhythmic thump of hard boots on the concrete floor, didn't cause Maura to miss a moment of attention. She had paused, scalpel in hand, considering the precision of her next move, still as a statue and deep in thought. Her isolation was magnified by the strains of the Third Brandenburg pulsing through her ear buds.

So the touch of hands on her shoulders, stroking down her back, and circling her waist, was a complete surprise.

After her initial startle response, she carefully placed the scalpel on the steel table, and gently disengage the long arms that circled her with such affection. She removed one of the earphones, and spoke in a low, disciplined, but firm tone:

"Jane, while you and I had profoundly different upbringings, I suspect there was one command your mother and my mother shared in common."

Puzzled by the coldness in Maura's voice, Jane could only react. "What?"

"Did she not warn you not to run with scissors?"

"What? Yes."

"She did me, also. I was a quiet child, but sometimes I would be taken by an idea, and run to find something I needed to know to complete it. And I'd have a pair of scissors in my hand. Or a trimming knife. Or a sharp pencil. And why did our mothers give us this warning?"

"They were afraid we'd get hurt. Maura, where..."

"They knew, all parents, all adults, know, that unrestrained motion with a sharp object can result in painful and dangerous consequences. When I'm at the autopsy table, almost every object I have in my hands is dangerously sharp. And when I feel your hands on me, even in this environment, my behavior is likely to be _very _ unrestrained."

Jane backed away just a bit, putting a centimeter of distance between her and Maura. She leaned in carefully, gently kissed Maura's ear, and whispered, "bad idea, huh?"

Maura nodded, turned her head to see Jane. "Bad idea."

Jane stepped away. Before she could say anything in apology, Maura said, over her shoulder, "I owe you. At home, tonight."

Jane smiled on her way out.

######

_**No Mercy**_

"That was amazing. Terrific."

"Glad you liked it."

"You like doing that, don't you?"

"What? Using my mouth?"

"Yeah."

"I do. It gives you so much pleasure."

"Is that all?"

"Well…you must admit...it does put the tough cop at the mercy of my tongue."

"Oh…it does. It does."

######

_**Because**_

In the middle of the night, Jane lay in bed, propped up on one elbow, watching Maura sleep. The moonlight poured in, lining out every detail of Maura's features. Maura slept, like she did so much else, in a constant, routine pattern. After the sex, the cuddling, the talk and touch, she would settle on her left side, her head on three pillows and hands folded by her chin; it meant she was always facing Jane.

Maura's shapely arms and shoulders, the swell of her breasts above the hem of the sheet, the curve of her hips and waist, made Jane catch her breath. _How did this happen_, Jane's mind shouted, _that this magnificent creature should be sharing my bed? How did I ever attract her attention? I'm nobody. I'm a working-class, beer-drinking, insecure, gay cop who doesn't make friends easily and is terrified of commitment. What am I to her? What did I do to deserve her?_

Maura's eyes opened, though her body didn't stir. Her eyes made contact with Jane's, searched her face for a long moment.

"You're wondering how I came to fall in love with you, aren't you?" Her voice was a musical whisper.

Only slightly surprised, Jane smiled wanly. "Yes."

"Simple. At a time when I was very lonely and afraid, you were very, very kind to me."

"That's all it took?"

"That's all it took."

######

_**Fashion Sense**_

Watching Maura Isles walk was always a treat. She must have started wearing heels early, because the way she moved across a room was masterful. Jane drank in every step as Maura came into her office to share their brief lunch break.

As Maura sat down, the fabric of her skirt hugged her thighs, accentuating their smooth, shapely taper and swell.

Jane's pulse rate went up by twenty beats. Thinking of one of the ads she'd seen in the paper that morning, she asked, "How come you don't wear slitted skirts?"

"Too slutty."

"Exactly."

Maura's eyes played across Jane's face, and the ends of her mouth drew up in a complicitous smile.

"I suppose I could stop at Newbury Street on the way home."

######

_**Capacity**_

They climbed the stairs with arms around each other's waists, laughing like schoolgirls. Jane carried Maura's suitcase in her free hand.

"I know the apartment isn't much, Maura. But we've got a three-day weekend to enjoy being in it."

"Never in my life have I so welcomed painters into my house." Maura said, as she smiled and leaned into Jane for a kiss.

As they reached the landing Jane took her keys out, then noticed the door was slightly ajar. Silently, gently pushing Maura against the wall with her right hand, she drew her weapon with her left and advanced into the apartment with a two-handed sweeping stance. Maura waited, afraid, until she heard Angela's voice at the same time as Jane's.

"Ma! What the hell!"

"Jesus! Janie, you scared the life out of me!"

"What are you doing here, Ma?!"

Maura breathed deeply, relief washing through every vein and artery. She entered the apartment to find Jane holstering her pistol while Angela stood outside the bedroom door, both hands on her hips, eyes wide.

"When you said Maura was staying for the weekend, I thought I'd do you a favor and clean up a little. I put clean sheets on the bed and extra pillows and blankets on the couch. And how often do you do your dishes? The sink was full!"

Jane was sputtering, exasperated. "Ma…Ma, you didn't have to do that. I wish you'd at least let me know before you barge…show up."

"Well, you could at least say 'thank you'. I thought I'd raised you better. Hi, Maura."

"Hello, Angela."

"Well, I'm going now. Oh…" She reached into the pocket of the cleaning apron she was wearing. "Maura, I think this is yours."

She handed the doctor a lacy dark-blue bra, her face expressionless.

Maura took the undergarment. "Ah…thank you…ahhh…where did…how…"

Jane was covering her face with her hands. She could guess what was coming.

"I found it in the bed sheets. I guess you forgot it because you were late for work one morning."

"How do you know it's not mine, Ma?" Jane asked from behind her fingers.

"Oh, isn't it too big for you? Maura would need a little more room. Well, see you guys later. Have a nice weekend!" she breezed out the door, closing it – completely – behind her.

Maura smiled dryly at the lingerie dangling from her hand. "Mmmm. That's one party we won't have to worry about having 'the talk' with."

"I guess not." Jane came close to Maura, and cradled her lover's breasts in her hands. " You know…she's right. You do."

"Yes. I do."

"You do."

######

_**Fear**_

It was the deepest part of the night, that time when it seems that the world might never see light again. Maura, awake, sensed that Jane was awake as well, and moved over to Jane's side of the bed, wrapping her arm around her waist and placing her lips against Jane's neck. "What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid."

"Why, Jane? Afraid of what?"

"Of you. Of loving you."

"I swear I will never hurt you. Never."

"It's not that. I know that."

Maura placed a soft kiss on Jane's neck, and then on her cheek. "Then what?"

"I'm so afraid of…of…what you _do_ to me."

Maura had to think about that, about what it might be that she did that frightened the most fearless person she'd ever known.

"I don't understand."

Jane turned toward her, placed her hand on Maura's hip. Even in the dark, Maura could see the shine of Jane's eyes.

"I love you so much. I feel…crazy about you. You make me want to…to throw away everything, just to be with you. To just spend the rest of my life in bed with you, and never do anything else. To spend my whole life keeping you happy. I've never felt like that before. These days I can't make a decision that doesn't involve you, how it will affect you, how it will affect our relationship. Dammit, Maura, before I fell in love with you I hated that word. I didn't have _relationships_. And now that's all I think about."

"And why is that bad? Why is that something to be afraid of?"

"Because all of a sudden my life isn't my own anymore. You can change it. And it doesn't take much. All you have to do is look at me, or touch me, and everything I wanted to do or say or think goes right to hell. Do you know that there are times, when you kiss me, I come close to passing out? That when we're making love I can't remember my name, or where we are, or what time it is? Isn't it dangerous to let someone else have that much power?"

"And you don't like that." Maura began to be afraid, herself.

"You know, the funny thing is, I _do like_ it. I _like_ having to trust you with myself. I do. I _trust_ you. And what I'm really scared of is that I never want this to stop. I just want to give it all to you. All of it. All of _me_."

"Then you're safe, Jane."

"Why?"

"Because you have all of _me_, too. In the very same way."

"And it doesn't scare you?"

"Oh, yes. But since I have you, and you have me, it's mutual. We can guard each other."

"Well…I guess that's fair. Kind of a Mexican standoff."

"They really aren't, you know." Her academic tone, at the same time as she was making small circles around Jane's nipple, was a decided turn-on.

"What…who?"

"Mexicans. They're really very friendly."

Jane puffed her cheeks in exasperation, then laughed deep in her chest. "It's just an expression, Maura. Just describes a situation."

"Well, whatever it is, it can't be as pleasant as this." And Maura kissed Jane's lips, issuing an invitation to possession and reward.

######

_**Wanting**_

The Bruins are on tonight, and, as usual, are losing. Jane is wrestling with a crossword, not really watching the TV. Maura's trying to get paperwork done, at her desk against the back of the sofa. It's work she must submit to Records when she gets in in the morning, and the rattle of the game gets more and more intrusive.

Without looking at the screen, Jane picks up the remote and shuts off the set.

The silence surprises Maura. "Weren't you watching the game? Why'd you turn it off?"

Jane doesn't look up. "Because you wanted me to."

"Oh. Why, thank you."

In about twenty minutes, Maura decides to get up for a glass of wine. She takes the long way around, in front of the couch. She bends down, and catches Jane's mouth in a kiss.

Jane looks up, smiles. "What's that for?"

"Because you wanted me to."

######

_**Bad Day**_

As Jane came in the door she felt the warmth of the house close around her. She could smell Chinese food, saw the little white containers on the dining-room table; Maura had ordered out. Before she could even take off her coat, she was in Maura's arms, her lover clinging to her with no sign of ever letting go.

"Are you all right?"

Maura shook her head against Jane's shoulder. Jane held her, stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry. Just...it was kind of a bad day."

"What happened?"

Maura lifted her head, looked away. "Oh...The autopsy for Det. Craig was trickier than I expected. Then I kept getting calls...Washington. Statehouse. Four AME's around the state, all with problems they could have solved themselves. It was...aggravating."

"Sorry, Maur'. But...you've..."

"That wasn't the worst part."

"What was?"

"I didn't see you. _All day_. You left home before I did. And I left work before you did. And you didn't come down. And I couldn't get free to come up to the bullpen."

Jane had a sarcastic crack on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. Instead, she tried to soften her voice. "I'm sorry. But I was busy, too. I didn't even have lunch."

"I know. But let's not let that happen again."

"Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Rescue**_

"you clean up real nice, partner." Frost handed Jane a drink as she scanned the teeming ballroom.

"Back at ya, Frost."

It was – thankfully – no more than once a year that detectives had to break out their dress blacks. Jane sometimes thought that she'd take a ten-percent pay cut if she could be sure she never had to wear them again.

But, since she and Maura had come together, there _were_ occasional benefits.

The good doctor, it seems, had a _thing_ for the military look. So this was actually the second time this year that Jane had worn full dress.

Unlike herself ( who always felt awkward in the outfit, despite recreational considerations), Frost actually _did_ look good, his slim, compact body fitting the uniform as if it were a tailored suit. How he remained single was a mystery Jane had chosen not to try and solve.

She continued scanning the room.

It was odd, circulating among all these _beautiful people_, the cream of Boston's social and financial elite, gathered to see and be seen on behalf of the Police and Fire Children's Foundation. She'd been proud to arrive with Maura on her arm, the doctor brilliant in a thin-strapped, slinky maroon gown, her hair glowing honey highlights. For a working class stiff from Revere, it was _all_ a little odd. Maura's dress, the town car she'd hired for the occasion, the high-class booze, the gourmet food; there was clearly an upside to wealth and position. But the kind of people you had to associate with – well, _pretentious_ didn't even begin to cover it. The conversation at dinner had been almost enough to spoil her appetite.

Almost, but not quite. The food was _amazing._

Maura was amazing, too. Despite her tendency to run on about obscure topics, she was far more interesting than the stuffed tuxes and glitzy bimbos at the table. Ten-to-one more than half of them weren't wives.

Maura was exceptional in so many ways.

So where had she got to?

After dinner they'd been accosted by a fire captain and a woman whom Maura seemed to know, and they had immediately engaged in a conversation that meant nothing to Jane. Jane had excused herself to go to the bar, and when she turned back Maura wasn't in sight.

_All right, detective; where is she?_

_Where would the most beautiful woman in the room be?_

_Right there.  
_

At one side of the ballroom there was a tight gaggle of men, the backs of their tuxes a wall of black, all facing the same person who was, from this distance, invisible. Jane was quite sure who was the focus of attention for that cluster of roosters.

She got out her phone, sent a text.

_You need to be rescued, don't you?_

It took about a minute for a reply.

_Yes, please. How did you know?_

_I have my methods_

_Do you know where I am?_

_Queen bee in a bunch of drones?_

_Exactly_

_Be right there_

Jane worked her way around the flank, and sure enough there was Maura. She put her hands on Maura's bare shoulders, and warmed as the doctor leaned into her body. "I'd like to dance with you."

Maura smiled up at Jane. "My pleasure, detective. To the assembled group, she smiled even more brilliantly. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen."

Jane wanted to stay and watch the expressions, but Maura was clearly in a hurry to go.

The band had just begun a slow dance tune, and Maura nestled close to Jane, her cheek on Jane's shoulder. She could feel Jane's heart beating.

"Thank you."

"I couldn't leave you with those sharks. It looked pretty claustrophobic."

"Actually, it would be closer to agoraphobia, fear of crowds. It comes from the Greek _agora _or marketplace..."

Jane tipped Maura's jaw up, kissed her in mid-sentence. "I love you, googlemouth."

"I know. I love you, too, gumshoe."

Jane was becoming less rational, more feral, the longer she held Maura this close. The music, the people around them, faded. Only Maura, her softness, her scent, her energy, remained.

She whispered hoarsely, "I want to be alone with you. Let's go home."

Maura smiled into the fabric of Jane's uniform. "We could do that."

"Hmmm. You sound like you have other plans."

Maura stepped away as the dance ended, slipped her hand into her clutch purse, and slipped a card into Jane's hand.

A room key. Jane took in Maura's sly grin.

"This _is_ a hotel. I engaged a room for the night. Just in case."

"Just in case what?"

"This." Maura kissed her, and tugged gently on the knot of Jane's tie.

######

_**Bargain**_

"…it's a lovely piece, and from the photograph you've shown me it seems rubies would be most suitable. May I ask if there is a special occasion?"

"It's an engagement ring."

Old Mr. Jacoby paused, polished his glasses. "You are really a very lucky woman - your intended is quite attractive."

"She is. Y'know, I think she'll like that ring. Okay…how much?"

Mr. Jacoby quoted a price and Jane cringed. "Well…thanks anyway."

"Is there a problem? I assure you everything is negotiable."

"You'd have to negotiate quite a lot for this. It's almost twice what I have to spend. It's my savings." Jane put her hands on her hips and pushed back her jacket, unintentionally exposing her badge.

Mr. Jacoby asked, "Are you a police officer?"

Jane said "Detective."

"Well, detective, this is a coincidence. You see, starting Friday – tomorrow – we're offering a half-price sale to municipal safety service and military members. The sale hasn't officially started yet but I'm sure I could offer you…"

"Sir, I can't accept favors from merchants."

"It's not like that. We do this every year."

"I've never noticed it before."

"Have you bought fine jewelry for this lovely lady before?"

"Ahhh…no."

"Well isn't it time you did?"

"I…suppose. Half price, you said?"

"Yes. Should I wrap it?"

"Mmmmm..sure. I'll take it."

######

_**Friday**_

Jane gaped while trying to be subtle and cool. "Wow. This _is_ a nice place. I've never been here."

Maura put her hand gently on Jane's back. Jane was wearing a black suit, much dressier than her everyday work clothes, cut more carefully to her figure, and under it a plain white satin top, with a deep vee neck that made her look feminine, sexy, and strong, all at once. Maura couldn't take her eyes off the detective. "You made the reservation, Jane. Thank you for choosing it."

"I suppose you've been here before."

"Yes, but only once. It has excellent food. It was sweet of you to take me out."

" I love you. Why shouldn't I take you out?"

"Well…it's…just unusual for you, that's all. I know you think restaurants like this are pretentious."

"But _you_ like them, Maura. And I like you. Makes sense."

"You _like_ me?"

"You love someone because they make you feel good. That's liking."

"You sound like me."

"That's scary. There's only one Maura Isles."

They ordered wine and dinner, and Jane's nerves began to come unstrung. Maura noticed her lover fidget and asked, "Are you all right?"

Jane muttered, "Uh, yes…no. I'm nervous as hell."

"Nervous? For heaven's sake why?"

Instead of answering, Jane took the small, flat jeweler's case out of her inside pocket. She put it on the table in front of Maura. Maura looked at the box, and then at Jane, with surprise. Then she laughed, a full, round, mirthful laugh that frightened Jane out of her wits.

"What are you laughing at? What's so funny?"

"Not you. And not what you intend with that. But…" Maura reached into her purse and took out a white satin jeweler's box, almost the same size as the one Jane had placed in front of her. With a brilliant smile she placed it in front of Jane. And Jane laughed, too.

"Aren't we a pair?"

"We must be joined at the brain, or something. How did you know?"

"I was ready, and I was hoping you were. Are you?"

"Yes. Very much. More than ready."

"Open it."

"You open yours first. I was first."

"I swear you _are_ still six years old."

They ended up opening them together. Maura had given Jane a single diamond in a simple, elegant gold setting, which looked beautiful on her hand. Maura was pleased to have rubies for an engagement ring, not finding diamonds attractive on her. But that single diamond looked great on Jane.

Jane cleared her throat.

"Well...I might as well make this formal." Jane's voice shook, a little. "Dr. Maura Isles, will you marry me?"

Maura beamed. "Yes. Yes. Detective Jane Rizzoli, will you marry me?"

"I asked you. You know the answer."

"I want to hear it."

Jane held Maura's cheek in her palm. "Yes. Yes, Doctor, I will marry you."

######

_**Gifts**_

"Were you expecting a package?"

Maura shook out her umbrella before closing the door, placed it in the stand in the foyer.

"No, why?" Jane kissed her, took the grocery bag, and looked at the small box Maura held in her hands. It was wrapped in brown paper, and had the names "Maura and Jane" printed in block letters directly on the wrapping. It hadn't been on the stoop very long; it was barely wet. There was no postage on the package.

No postage.

"Maura, you'd better put that down. Outside. Here. Let me." Jane gingerly took the box, and set it out on the sidewalk.

"Jane, it'll get soaked What..."

"No postage, hon. Anonymously delivered. Who have you pissed off lately? Or me? Or your dear old dad?"

Not anyone that I...oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Jane keyed her phone. Maura asked, "Who are you calling?"

"Bomb squad. I want 'em to take a look."

"Do you really think someone would send us a bomb?"

"Who knows? We've both got enough enemies that it's a real possibility. To say nothing of Paddy's enemies."

The bomb squad came in short order, carefully put the package in the blastproof carrier. Several marked cruisers also showed up, cordoned off the block and evacuated the homes in the vicinity. Maura was horrified; "My neighbors will never speak to me again." Jane said she should remind them of the extra security they enjoyed with a cop living on the block; the inconvenience was a small price to pay. A portable fluoroscope revealed that the package contained no parts that could be recognized as an explosive device; in fact, the only opaque objects in the box appeared to be..

"Jewelry."

"What?" Jane and Maura were looking at the x-ray in the back of the bomb truck parked outside the house. The neighbors had all been let back into their homes, none more resentful than Jane's mother, who had ruined a batch of zeppoli when the homes on the block had been evacuated. The package had been x-rayed, vapor-analyzed, and sniffed by a bomb dog, and appeared to be completely harmless. The wet brown paper had been removed, and an inner plastic bag as well. Nothing dangerous.

The X-ray image showed the clear shadows of a ring, with a setting, and what could be a bracelet or necklace.

Jane asked the EOD chief, "is it safe to open?"

"It's not likely to blow up. But some of the damndest stuff arrives in anonymous packages. Your call, Detective."

"Maura, you should be out of here. In the house."

"No."

Jane knew better by now than to argue. That sweet feminine exterior covered a will of pure steel.

Deep breath. Cut the tape with the chief's clasp knife. Lift the flap.

Envelopes.

Altogether there were five envelopes. One addressed to "Detective Rizzoli"; the other simply "Maura". The other three were blank.

The EOD team judged everything safe, so Jane and Maura took the package and its contents back into the house as the bomb squad left. They sat at the dining table to examine the peculiar delivery.

Two of the envelopes did indeed contain jewelry. One item was a ring; a simple, small diamond in an ornate, old-fashioned setting. The ring wasn't pure gold, because it showed signs of tarnish; it wasn't an expensive ring. The other item was a necklace, also very of a very old design, made of silver; the tarnish on the piece was quite pronounced. The woven-knot pattern suggested Ireland.

The other unlabeled envelope held a photograph. It was small, about five by six, and pitted with age. It showed a young man and woman, posed formally, facing the camera; he was dressed in a dark suit which Maura recognized as late 1920's style, and she was in a wedding dress, her veil drawn away. It was clearly this couple's wedding portrait. On the back, in script written in faded ink, was

"_Walter Doyle and Maureen O'Bannon Doyle, Cobh, April 1932. May God bless this union."_

"Paddy's ancestors. My ancestors." Maura was tense, tight-lipped; Jane could sense anger, and perhaps some fear. She put her hand over Maura's, said "He can't hurt you."

"It's not that. It's just stirring up...unpleasant memories."

Paddy Doyle was now doing six consecutive life sentences in a maximum-security federal prison in Colorado. The murders for which he'd been convicted, as well as a murder-conspiracy charge, had all fallen under Federal jurisdiction one way or another. The Feds had had little incentive to offer Paddy any kind of deal in hopes of catching bigger fish; he _was_ the big fish.

Jane understood; she didn't want to live that nightmare over, either. She and Maura had come too close to tearing themselves apart over that. Now, on the eve of their wedding, a reminder of that awful time just _had_ to show up.

_Thanks, Paddy. You miserable fuck._

"We don't have to do this. Not if you don't..."

"No." Maura leaned into Jane, kissed her tenderly. "That's past. I can do this. I love you, and the past isn't going to change that. There's probably some explanation in these other envelopes."

They opened the envelopes. They each read the note addressed to them, and then exchanged them.

Both notes were short. They were written in a cultured script that surprised Jane, considering Paddy wasn't a formally educated man.

_Dear Maura,_

_I hear that you and the detective are getting married. That's legal in Massachusetts now. I'm not happy with it but times change. If you have to marry a woman, Jane Rizzoli is a good choice for you. I know she loves you._

_You should know that I would have killed her if she hadn't taken me down. At the time I hated her for what I thought was corrupting you. I don't think that anymore._

_The ring is my grandmother's wedding ring, your great-grandmother. The necklace was her wedding present from her husband, your great grandfather. That's them in the picture, at their wedding. They were married in Ireland and came over here a year later. He was on the run from the cops in Ireland. I don't know for what. _

_I wanted you to have these. You ought to know where the blood in your veins comes from, even if you never acknowledge it._

_I'm proud of you. You've made so much of yourself. I'm sorry I won't be there to give you away._

_Forgive me the life I've lived. I never wanted to bring any harm to you._

_I love you._

_Doyle._

And, to Jane, he'd written:

_Detective_,

_I suppose you had the bomb squad check the package. I'm glad they didn't blow it up. Forget about prints. You won't find any but mine. _

_Pardon me if I don't call you Jane. We're not really on a first name basis. I know you hate me and everything I represent, but there are some things you should know before you marry Maura. Marry my daughter._

_I know Maura makes her own choices. I don't want her marrying another woman, but if that's what she wants she'll have it and I can't change it. I gave up all those rights when she was born. I'm glad she chose you. I dislike what you do, but I respect that you can watch over her. She loves you, and that's what matters._

_Take care of her. She's smart, but maybe not so street smart. There's people out there who'd hurt her if they could. You know all about those kind of people. Keep her safe._

_If you decide you want kids, you don't have to tell them about me. Maybe Maura would rather forget about me. But she shouldn't. I'm her family whether she, or you, like it or not._

_I trust you to be good to her, protect her. That's your job now. I can't do that for her any more. She's yours. She was never really mine. I think that was for the best._

_You won't hear from me again._

_Doyle_

Maura wiped the tears from her eyes. Not so much of sadness, but of frustration, anger.

Jane comforted her, held her with a gentle rocking motion. "We don't have to keep any of it. We could donate it to a museum, or...something."

"I want to keep it. All of it. I'll never wear those things. But I just want to remember how lucky I am, how close I came to having to try and live in Paddy's world."

"You wouldn't have lived in Paddy's world. You'd have been killed."

"That, too. I need to stay aware of how precious this life is. You are. Mother and Father. Your family. All of it. I have you, not him."

"And we have you."

She kissed Maura, was kissed right back.

"That, too", Maura said.


	5. Chapter 5

**Marital Problems**

They loaded the trunk of Jane's cruiser in the Trader Joe's lot, as Maura checked off (for the second time) the items they'd purchased.

"Are you sure we haven't missed anything?" Jane asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I think we're set. You want this rehearsal dinner to come off smoothly, don't you?" Maura ran a finger down Jane's bare upper arm.

Jane gave Maura a smoky look through narrowed eyes. "I want it _all_ to go smoothly. I want to have the wedding, already!"

"Me, too, but we have to be kind to our family and friends. This is as big a celebration for them as it is for us."

Jane snorted as she got into the car. "Not by half."

Maura just chuckled as she belted in.

As Jane started the cruiser the police radio between them crackled to life.

"_All units all units in vicinity respond to officer-involved shooting 734 Camden Street. Caller says victim is in front yard."_

Jane held her hand over the radio mike button, turned to Maura. "Camden's only about four or five blocks from here. I have to take this."

"But you're not on call."

"Doesn't matter. It's an all units. Anybody who can take it, has to." She triggered the mike with one hand, placed the emergency light on the roof with the other. "Detective Rizzoli, Victor 825, responding to your OIS on Camden. I'm close by, am on my way."

"_Victor 825 we acknowledge your response."_

"This an apartment?" There was a pause as the dispatcher checked with the caller.

"_Negative on apartment. Single-family brick house."_

"Have the caller meet us at the scene?"

"_Not her house, she lives across the street. Says shooting is self-inflicted."_

Jane let up on the mike. "Oh shit. Did you bring your bag?", She asked Maura.

"I always do."

"Dispatch, this is Rizzoli, I am bringing medical assistance and will be on scene in two."

"_We acknowledge."_

"_This is Walston, Patrol unit 262, we are on scene now and appreciate your medical, Rizzoli."_

"_Anybody call EMS?"_

"_V825, they are five minutes out."_

They came around a corner to see a parked cruiser, lights flashing, in the middle of the block. Two officers were in the front yard of a small house, one kneeling on the ground. Jane pulled up behind the marked car, unlocked her gun from the concealed gunsafe in the car. She pointed at Maura. "You stay here."

"But..."

"But me no buts. This is an unsecured shooting scene and you have no business there until I say it's safe. I'll wave you in when it is."

Maura opened her mouth.

"_Do NOT argue with me."_

"I was about to say all right. No need to get hostile."

"I just don't want to expose you needlessly."

"I understand." Maura looked hurt.

_I do understand. I understand your need to protect me. I understand that it's your love for me that makes you do this. But Jane, I'm not a child. I survived this world just fine when I was just Maura, not one half of a collective noun. The only reason I acquiesced now was I didn't want to start a fight in front of our colleagues._

Jane approached the little group, hand on her weapon. She had a short conversation with the officers, and waved at Maura to come ahead. Maura retrieved her instrument bag and made her way across the crisp, under-watered grass to the scene.

The two officers were bent over the supine body of a third man who, as Maura could tell from the uncoordinated motions of his feet, was decidedly still alive. She knelt down to examine the victim, thankful that she was wearing stretch pants. Despite her devotion to sartorial elegance, and years of practice, she usually found assuming this position in a skirt uncomfortably revealing.

As Maura scanned the victim for wounds, Jane caught up with what the uniforms had already found. The victim was Ben Jenkins, BPD, patrolman second class. He had been found prone, on the front lawn of his own home, clutching his left hand with his right and in considerable pain, both hands covered in blood. His service pistol was lying on the ground next to him; one round had been discharged.

All this time Patrolman Jenkins had been venting a loud and continuous stream of abuse, in which the name Vicky, the word "bitch" and various obscenities were prevalent.

The ambulance arrived. The senior medic, Jane and Maura had a little conference while the officers tried to keep Jenkins quiet and the other medic finished what Maura had begun to treat the wound. "His only injury is to the third finger of his left hand", Maura informed them. "It's clearly self-inflicted. He apparently fired into his own hand at very close range; there's copious powder residue all over both hands. The finger is nearly severed proximal to the second knuckle; he could lose the digit. Oh, he's also alarmingly inebriated." The paramedic made notes of her diagnosis while Jane tried to get a story out of him.

"Okay, Officer Jenkins, can you tell us what happened here?" Jane asked, one cop to another.

"I wanna _divorce!_ That bitch won't get the hell outta my house! She's still fuckin' that little shit and sleepin' in my bed!"

A woman's voice howled from the front porch, "I ain't fuckin' nobody, you fat slob! You're just too drunk to think straight! Stupid bastard!"

Jane directed the junior uniform to get the woman back in the house. She turned back to Jenkins. "So, what, you and your wife have a fight and you come out here and shoot yourself in the hand? What the hell is that all about?"

"I don't wanna be married to her any more! I want her gone!" Jenkins was sitting up now, while the medics finished bandaging his injured hand. He was bellowing loudly enough to be heard all along the block, and a dozen neighbors were watching from across the street. Jane asked Walston to call for another cruiser to do crowd control.

"So, hey, that doesn't explain why you blew your hand off."

"The _ring! I was shootin' off the fuckin' ring!"_

"Say what?" Jane looked up at Maura, who was hiding her mouth with her hand; to Jane's practiced eyes she was trying to hide stifled laughter.

"_My goddamn weddin' ring! I couldn't take it off so I fuckin' shot it off!"_

"Jesus H... All right, look, Jenkins, we're taking you in on charges of, ahhh, illegal discharge of a firearm, and reckless endangerment. You have the right to remain silent..." She rattled off the Miranda warning, knowing even as he agreed that he understood her that he was so hammered he'd almost certainly not remember any of this until he sobered up, if then. The unis bundled him into the back of their cruiser just as the second cruiser arrived and dispersed the crowd. Before they left Jane asked the first pair, "Anybody find the bullet?"

"No, detective, we were pretty busy with him."

"Okay." To the new officers, she said, "Can you guys check this yard for a bullet hole? Don't try to dig it out if you find it, just mark it. I'll call CSRU right now. Oh, the wife's in the house. She's good for now, but if she comes out and starts raising hell, arrest her on a disturbing. I'm going to go book this asshole."

Maura was finishing her crime scene notes on her blackberry. She smirked at Jane, a cryptic expression that implied she had more to say than she had said already. Jane asked, as they walked back to the car, "what's up with you?"

"I was kind of mad at you for a while, back there."

Jane put a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry. I was just doing my job. It's a crime scene. I'm supposed to do that."

"I know. But you needn't have been so...condescending. I have a job to do, too. I'm a grownup. Please remember that."

"I will. I'm sorry. Still mad?"

They paused at the driver's side door. Maura turned them so that Jane's back was to the officers still combing the yard, where she couldn't be seen. She ran her fingertip along the collar of Jane's teeshirt, leaned in close enough to feel Jane's breath on her face. "No. Not any more. But I assure you, my love, that no matter how mad I ever get at you, I will never use a firearm to remove my ring."

They both exploded into breathy laughter.

Jane twisted a lock of Maura's hair around a finger. "And you? What were you laughing at back there? That poor stupid bastard was hurt!"

"Oh, he'll live. They may even be able to reattach the finger. I was just struck by the irony."

"Irony?"

"The ring. It was still on his finger."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. He _missed_."

######

**Electromagnetic Radiation**

Jane was warm. All over. Every square inch of her bikini-clad body was glowing in the tropical sun.

_I might never go back to Boston again._

She opened her eyes, swept the far horizon of blue over blue, and the white sand beach between her and the crystalline water. She lifted the cold glass to her lips, enjoyed the burn of the dark rum, the chill of the ice.

And Maura, to her left, her body as exposed as it could possibly be and still be in public. Her eyes were closed, her left hand resting on her bare stomach. The ring on her finger caught the sunlight, reflected it back to Jane's eyes.

Jane lifted her left hand, stared happily at the matching ring there. The ring that would _always _be there, just as this woman would _always_ be here for her. That's what they promised, three days ago, in front of every person in their lives.

She was a wife. Someone's wife. _Maura's_ wife.

Jane Rizzoli-Isles. Not too bad, after all.

She rolled on her side, put a hand on Maura's shoulder. "You okay?" It was a purely rhetorical question.

"Mmmmmnn. Supremely okay. I could lay here forever, soaking up all this lovely electromagnetic radiation."

"Translate, please?"

"Oh...you know, electromagnetic radiation. Light, Ultraviolet. Everything in sunlight. Electrons, you know. They oscilate, give off energy as photons. Different wvelengths..."

Jane touched a finger to her wife's lips. "Ooookaaay, , my dear, that's just peachy. But too much more and you won't be in shape for what I have planned for you this evening. Your tender little body will cook to a crisp."

Maura sighed. "I know. I'm so fair and I burn so easily. You don't. Ever? Do you ever sunburn? I hate you. Italians." This was all murmur, with her eyes closed.

"And this in pite of that inch-deep of SPF-1 million sunscreen you slathered on."

"_You_ slathered on. And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"Every square inch. Y'know, I could just lay on top of you. Be your shade."

"I'd rather you did that back in our room."

"Now?"

"Now."

"Where do you want go for dinner?"

"The room service lounge. Once I'm in with you I won't want to go out."

"Being on a honeymoon is so much fun."

"Yes it is. Yes it is." Maura wrapped her arms around her wife and kissed her with all the power at her command.

After they broke the kiss, Jane stood up, took Maura's hand. "Now."

######

**Why**

"Hey. Ready to go home?"

"Oh, I can't right now." Maura stretched, pressing her arms against her desk and leaning back in her chair. "I'm being deposed tomorrow. I have to study these files. I'll take a cab home."

Jane put on a whiny face. "C'mon, Maura. You'll be at it all night. And it's not safe to wait for a cab late at night."

"Not safe? I'm right in front of police headquarters!"

"Well...what about dinner? You have to eat."

"I've got food here in the fridge."

"The dead fridge? Ecch."

"It's all cold air, Jane. And it's all sealed up."

"Well...look, come home, you can work while I cook, you can take a shower, get into some comfortable clothes, work in your office. I won't disturb you."

"I've heard that before."

"I mean it. I...I'll worry if I leave you here."

"_That_ is _not_ fair."

"I know. But you should come home."

Maura puffed out her cheeks, gave an exaggerated sigh, and packed her files into her briefcase. Jane beamed. "That's my girl."

"I _am_ yours. I am _not_ a girl." Maura flounced into her coat, shut off the lights and locked the door.

When Maura emerged from the shower she pulled on a tank top and a pair of Jane's sweats – which, to her surprise and secret embarrassment, she had found seductively comfortable – and went down to her small office off the rear hall. The house was quiet, except for the sounds Jane was making in the kitchen. No TV, no music. Jane was trying to keep her word.

There was a glass of red wine on her desk. Maura smiled to herself, knowing that glass represented many things – a peace offering, a deprivation of excuses, a profession of love. Her earliest impression of Jane, that of deceptive complexity, was still true. In spades.

She sat down and spread the evidence file out in front of her. She became absorbed in ballistic angles, entry-exit wound elevation, and began doing calculations on a yellow legal pad. Yes, that conclusion made sense; the killer could not have been closer than a couple of meters – no powder residue; and no further away than ten meters – layout of the room; the entry-exit angles said the gun was high enough to cause the bullet's path to be depressed by seventeen degrees. The shooter must have been halfway down the stairs, nine meters away...

A plate of food slid into her peripheral vision; she hadn't seen or heard Jane enter the room with her dinner. She picked up the fork on the plate, only half-conscious of what was there. Pasta, greens. She took a bite of the pasta and was immediately rewarded with a burst of meaty, smoky flavor. Mmmmm.

"Delicious! Thank you!"

"_Carbonara_. Better than morgue leftovers, huh? Enjoy." Before Maura could reply, Jane kissed the top of her head, ran her hand down Maura's back, and left her to her work.

Several hours passed, in silence and peace, Maura absorbed in the technicalities of a brutal domestic murder. At some point, without thinking, she moved from the desk to the buttery-soft comfort of the leather love seat, her back against the padded arm, and incidentally, the closed door. File folders piled up on the floor next to her.

She felt, rather than heard, Jane's presence behind her. Before any words could be exchanged, strong fingers kneaded the muscles of her shoulders and neck into a looser, more relaxed configuration. For a long moment she released her mind to go wherever it would; at first she catalogued the muscles being so expertly handled. _Trapezius. Deltoid. Splenius capitis. Semispinalis capitis..._

The array of aromas assaulted her senses. Lavender. Garlic, bacon. Beer. The warm, female scent of Jane Rizzoli. Maura's addiction. She allowed herself to slide down the slope of seduction brought on by Jane's touch, becoming pliable, unresisting...

No. _No. _ She still had work to do.

"Jane. Please. You promised. I have to finish."

"Maura, it's after eleven. You've been at this for three hours. Isn't that big brain ready for a break?" Strong, long fingers move up into her scalp, stroking, stimulating the circulation. It felt _sooo good...occipitalis..._

"Jane...love, I can't..."

Jane's hands slid smoothly down, across Maura's shoulders, down her bare arms, now circling her waist...

"No, Jane. No..." Maura's protests weakened, as a liquid warmth suffused her body.

She was being seduced, and she had completely forgotten why she might have objected.

"_Why_ do I let you do these things to me?"

Jane didn't answer. Instead she brought her hands up to cup Maura's breasts, then slipped under her top to touch them unadorned. Maura was worrying her lower lip, eyes closed, making no protest but a low, irregular hum that became breathy moans. As Jane's hands continued to wander, lower, lower, Maura discovered one of the double-edged qualities of Jane's sweatpants: they were extremely easy for Jane to get into.

Under the ministrations of Jane's nimble fingers, Maura's body overwhelmed her mind, leading her up to a dangerous high place, where the only thing she could do, did do, was topple into a panting, gasping climax that set her skin on fire with a rosy flush and a roaring tumult in every nerve.

She lay back into Jane's embrace, a limp rag doll, feeling the erotic fog in her mind gradually clear, until she was thinking again.

"That's why." Jane whispered in her ear.

"Yes. It's true."

"I'm going up to bed. Finish your work, come up when you're ready. I did the dishes."

Maura turned, kissed her. "I don't know if I'm in any state to work."

"Aren't you always telling me about the beneficial effects of orgasms?"

"Well...yes. There may be some positive cognitive effects..."

"Well, let's see. Consider it therapy."

"You're very odd."

"I am. I love you."

"I love you. I'll be up soon."

Jane smiled impishly. "Good."

######

**Spring**

Jane was laying out the antipasto platter. Olives, here. Anchovies, here. Cheese. Salami, artichokes, tomatoes. It was tedious work for eleven o'clock on a Saturday night.

Her mother was putting finishing touches on the red sauce, and Maura was laying together lasagna noodles and meat and cheese in a casserole pan. They had been cooking all evening, and Jane was ready to call it quits.

"Why do we have to do this all now?" Maura recognized six-year-old-Jane in the whining tone.

Angela answered without looking up. "We have to have everything ready for dinner tomorrow. It's Easter."

Their normal Sunday dinner had been expanded by extending invitations to Frost, Korsak, Cavanaugh, Susie Chang, and Alex. Lydia and her mother had also been invited, but it was uncertain whether they'd be there. All the leaves had been set into Maura's dining table.

"Can't we do this in the morning?"

Angela began ladling sauce over the lasagna noodles. "No! we have to go to church in the morning."

"Well, Maura and I could finish a lot of this while you were...whoa, what do you mean _we_?"

"Well of course we're all going."

Jane stopped what she was doing. "Ma! You know I don't go to church. C'mon!"

Angela turned to Maura. "Did you put the chicken in to marinate?"

Maura shot an uneasy glance at Jane. "It's in the refrigerator."

"And the salad greens are all cut, and the bread is out of the freezer..."

"Ma."

"What, Jane? Is that antipasto finished?"

"I am not going to church with you."

Angela turned with her hands on her hips. "You are. Once a year, Jane, once a year I expect you to honor your family's traditions. Everybody else is going. _Tommy's_ going. He's bringing TJ. The least you could do..."

"Ma, I'm not even Catholic!"

"You were born Catholic, you were raised Catholic, you're Catholic, you're going!"

"Ma, I haven't been to church since...Jeez, _last_ Easter!"

"So? It means you can't go now?"

Fishing desperately, Jane stuttered, "I...I can't go. I haven't been confessed."

"You can't take Holy Communion. But you can attend with the rest of us."

"Ma..."

"What's so hard? You get dressed up, you meet some old friends, you stand, you kneel, you sing a little. You're with us. We love you. We want you there."

"Ma...oh, all right!" Jane threw up her hands. "But after this, don't bug me anymore."

"Whatever!" Angela went back to the lasagna.

Maura had moved next to Jane during this whole argument. She asked, "Angela, what would be appropriate for me to wear tomorrow?"

"Wear? What, to dinner?"

"No, to church. I've never attended a Catholic service."

"Maura, you don't have to go."

"Is there any reason I _can't _go?"

"Well...no. You'd be welcome, of course."

Maura linked her arm inside Jane's, molded herself close to her wife. "Then of course I will."

Jane smiled.


End file.
